During tragic times, we’re told to look for the helpers, right?

For me, that means finding self-help from those who know nothing about me. That’s what feels the safest. I turn to podcasts, blog posts, and books from my favorite online mentors and savor the tidbits that allow me to excuse myself when it seems like no one else will.

Just the other day, I tuned into Glennon Doyle’s daily “family meeting” on Instagram. She reminded me that nobody’s nailing this shit right now. There’s no right way to do hardship. There’s no one-size-fits-all scheme on how to run a household during a time of crisis. Nobody’s getting inducted into the National Honor Society for social distancing right now or remembering Every. Single. Item. on a shopping list that’s supposed to get you by for the next two weeks. (And if you are, maybe this blog post isn’t for you?)

Instead, we’re all figuring it out as we go, right? And we’re doing so in our jammies (I never even put on a bra today), without our hair washed, and in the confines of our own home with no one else around to witness it. No soccer moms. No PTO chairs. Not even your very best friends. Nobody.

It’s pretty great actually—being given a hall pass on performance. Like, who’s going to judge you if your kids spent the entire last two months in front of the television? Or, if you need two stiff drinks every Friday night just to fall asleep while the world is busy flattening the goddamn curve? You see, when the nationwide restrictions are lifted, we’ll all emerge with a picture of a quarantined life that may look vastly different from that of our neighbors’. And that’s okay. It’s great, actually.

I have a confession to make.

I’ve been tending to my mental health in the mountains and it’s keeping me and my family both sane and healthy. After a few cranky days inside, we drag our weary bodies up to our beloved, now abandoned, ski resort and hike until everyone stops complaining and my kids start acting like best friends. I’m timing it now. It takes about half-an-hour of hard cardio to get everyone on the same plane. Then, we play for an hour, ski and snowboard down, and return home with hungry bellies, sun-kissed faces, and calm hearts.

A couple of times over the last few weeks I’ve felt guilty about our outings because I know, to some, even leaving the backyard seems reckless. But then a dear friend pointed out that while there’s so much talk about how to treat and avoid this disease du jour, nobody’s really talking at all about building immunity—about the real self-care. She questioned why there’s no mention of getting enough sleep, eating right, and exercising daily. And how, if you do these things, your immune system just might be strong enough not to catch the virus all. (Novel idea, right?)

You see, the way I choose to operate this stay-at-home order might look different from yours, but it’s still in the best interest of both my family and my community. I’m sure your mode of navigation is, too. In fact, I know in my heart that it is. I also know that it may look to you like there are mothers out there who’s kids are totally caught up on their reading, who’s house projects are getting checked off on the daily, and who’s work seems to be on pause right now, despite a full paycheck coming in.

But I assure you, nobody’s nailing it! So don’t even compare yourself.

Instead, you do you. Just like I’m doing me. We’re not being reckless; we not being neglectful. What we’re doing is lowering the bar just a little for ourselves so that when we come out the other end of this—when it’s time to go back on stage and perform—our expectations for each other will soften. Maybe we won’t put on that costume. Maybe we’ll decide that the stage shoes just don’t fit anymore. And maybe we’ll defer the lead role, for once, and let someone else take center stage under the lights.

That’s the least we can do for each other, right ladies?